


philia

by soulmatesentrys (smallcrystals)



Category: My Little Pony: Equestria Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Best Friends, Dorks, Drabble, Gen, Music, ateez inspired, soarin swears like once, they just love each other okay, you get me?, you will be sad but in a happy way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 13:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallcrystals/pseuds/soulmatesentrys
Summary: (n.) a type of love between friends.or[Idol Group] 3S’ Flash Sentry and Timber Spruce write a song for their third member and best friend, Soarin Skies.
Kudos: 1





	philia

**Author's Note:**

> this was for one of my best friends' birthday!! happy birthday nivia, ilysm /p
> 
> i love all three of these boys and since soarin is nivia's comfort character, i had to write smth appreciating him. so enjoyyy :D
> 
> song theme: THANK U by ATEEZ
> 
> p.s. the song above is NOT the song in the drabble but it is heavily inspired by

When Timber asked him if he could join him in Flash’s studio later that evening, Soarin said “of course,” immediately, the words slipping out of his mouth without a second to think. Timber grins at him with that smile, the one that makes his eyes disappear, cheeks full and cute. Soarin reaches out to ruffle to the younger’s curls, to which Timber giggles before going back to his own thing.

As Soarin washes the plates, the questions start bubbling in his chest. The dish-washing liquid foams around his fingers as he thinks, wonders, inattentively scraping negligible stains off the tableware. 

Flash’s studio tends to be off-limits most times. If they’re ever writing or producing a song together as a group, they’d either use ‘Bolts Cave or Everfree’s Lab. Rarely does Soarin ever find himself in Drive. It’s not like their leader completely forbids them from entering, at least not straightforwardly. Flash just calls it the place he likes to stay in when he needs to be alone. That in itself sort of led the other two to keep out of it. Soarin and Timber love him and loving him means also giving him space when he needs it.

He only remembers the inside of it from that one time where he and Timber hesitated outside of it, watching the gradient of the night sky grow a darker blue by the minute, unsure if they should barge in and take Flash out. They knocked on the door and called for him multiple times, resulting in the same _just lemme get this part right_. The youngest was patient enough to lean against the wall beside the door, unlike Soarin who gave up and stormed right in. They both found Sentry asleep, head on desk, by his PC, producing software still running.

Soarin’s probably been in the room more than once but that’s the only time he fully remembers. He wonders, fingers damp and wrinkly, why Timber asked him instead of Flash. He hasn’t seen the latter since the morning. Soarin guesses it’s one of those days, but why else would they call _him_? The feeling shakes itself off his chest once he places the last plate back in the drying rack, curling his fingers in and out.

Drive is warm when he enters, sort of like a booth in a way. The door closes softly, making a little suction noise from the material of the outer case. Soarin catches glimpses of different equipment, similar to those he has in his own studio. A red electric guitar leans against the wall to his right, still clean but untouched, its head slipped, crooked, into the corner. Walls carry mist, but not of dark colours; it’s gentle, maybe a little timid of a colour.

Flash’s back is turned to him until his footsteps fill the room, Timber’s leaning against the wall to their left. Regardless of the warmth, the air carries uncertainty. Not in a suffocating way, but he still wishes he can ease it somehow.

“What’s up?” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Flash doesn’t look as tired as Soarin expected him to be, perhaps the better skincare is hiding it but it appears some sort of nervousness is keeping him awake. He smiles at Soarin, rolling up another chair for him to sit.

“Um, we made a song,” Flash replies, gesturing between him and Timber, “and we just wanted you to hear it.” He reaches for the headphones connected to the laptop, passing them to Soarin with tentative hands. Soarin swears he sees them shake a little but it’s only for a second; he convinces himself he’s probably seeing things. He glances at the laptop screen, recognising the unfamiliar beats, hearing vaguely how they’d sound.

“Oh, okay,” he says in return, voice delicate to relax whatever nerves his best friend has going on. He steals a look at his other best friend, hands crossed under his armpits, crooked smile upon his mouth. His eyebrows are nearly sad, though. Or maybe shy. Shy seems better. His arms, now he thinks about it, make him look like he’s hugging himself. 

Without too much delay, he slips on the headphones, comfy on his ears, and clicks play.

The guitar is just as soft as the guys are at the moment, with tender strums in the intro. Flash’s voice starts the first verse and he attempts to focus on the gorgeous sound of the man’s voice yet the lyrics wash every thought out of Soarin’s head in a split second. They’re unsure sounding in a wonderfully musical way, singing in Japanese and English about the silent struggle of loneliness, of the fear that Soarin finds extremely reminiscent of their childhood. His heart picks up his pace as if the nervousness of the others translates over to him too but from a different perspective.

The beat steadies itself in his head, foot subconsciously bouncing along. A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips when he recognises specific notes that are key Flash Sentry notes, recognises the sound, sees him playing the notes himself. Soarin can tell it’s still a draft; the production is something he knows isn’t what either Flash or Timber would settle on for a final version. 

Then the words form together, laid out in his head.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

This is about him. Him, Soarin Skies.

Some sort of haze comes up to surround his head as the song breaks into the pre-chorus. Timber’s voice gingerly weaves in with Flash’s. Soarin’s eyebrows furrow, heart attempting to catch up with his brain which is processing the lyrics and the melody.

It’s a rock-style pop song or at least something with that as its goal. Something he can see being played near the end of their concert. Soarin presses his lips together as he takes in the metaphors because _Jesus Christ, that mind of yours, Flash Sentry_. The chorus manages to gloss his eyes, soothing tunes covering his heart like a blanket, similar to those that they’d use when they made pillow forts as teenagers.

Timber’s verse, along with the piano behind it, reminds Soarin so much of the younger when he’s a little lulled from being too energetic but still smiley and giggly. Summer evening Timber Spruce, if that makes any sense to anyone other than himself. The way his lyrics bounce, Soarin imagines Timber tilting his head cutely to the beat.

Like the differences in the way they write, Soarin’s relationship with Timber is slightly unlike the one he has with Flash. They’ve known each other for less, but Soarin knows that doesn’t impact them. There are more moments with him spent talking or being cheeky than they are with Flash but that’s what makes them _them_ and Soarin feels like crying when Timber talks about it in his verse. Alongside Flash, he’s calmer, and with Timber, he’s all over the place in the best way possible. Timber always said he feels like he never says _thank you for being here_ enough, regardless of how many times Soarin says _you don’t have to_ , so when he hears those exact words, his lungs quiver.

The pre-chorus comes sooner, a lot more vibrant, making Soarin smile. Timber starts off the chorus this time, Flash following soon after. It’s summer, honey on a teaspoon all over again.

His eyes go wide when he recognises the Japanese words. The entire song so far has been in Japanese and English. His chest flutters at the idea of the boys writing in _his_ mother tongue for a song about him from _them_ —

Soarin lets out a shaky breath when the bridge hits.

The build-up from Timber to Flash’s higher voice only lets the dam crumble as tears fill his eyes. The lyrics talk about waves, sunsets and all he thinks of are exhausted seven pm’s, still some things left to tick off their schedule, Soarin rushing up to hug both of them from behind just for the fucking sake of it.

He feels Flash’s fingers on his shoulder but he doesn’t pay any attention, eyes only on the blurry fifty seconds left. Soarin licks his lips, failing to hide his close-lipped grin when the background vocals grow more apparent. Their voices go so well together, he always tells them. The chorus repeats itself when Flash pulls at Soarin’s shoulder and Soarin could faintly hear him calling his name. Biting his bottom lip, he jerks and falls into Flash’s chest, wrapping his arms around his middle. His tears soak Flash’s black hoodie, headphones blocking out his sobs. There’s a click, the music stops coming through his headphones yet continues filling the room like it hadn’t been cut off. Another hand touches his back, slightly colder than Flash’s one and Soarin doesn’t need to open his eyes to pull Timber into the hug too.

Flash stands up to hug them easier. The way he presses into both of them makes the headset slip backwards, falling into the hood of this sweatshirt. The music plays at a distance but still reflecting off the walls, somehow louder than the volume the headphones were at.

Flash and Timber don’t say anything as they hug him back, arms squeezing around him. Soarin feels their bodies shaking with his too. He knows what they’re trying to convey with the song, it all fits together. He feels so warm. The song blooms with euphoria, he feels it from his neck up. It’s perfect. This, along with the harmonies their voices sing at the end of the song, along with his best friends crying with him, is perfect. Just how he wants it.

_I love you too._


End file.
